


Bar Fight

by sigo



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood As Lube, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Bottom Armitage Hux, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Floor Sex, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Spit As Lube, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Top Kylo Ren, Unconventional Lubes of varying effectiveness, so much blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25131937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigo/pseuds/sigo
Summary: “What did you call me?” Ren blinked up at him, eyes narrowing.Kriff. “Supreme Leader.”“I don’t think that was it.”“...Ren.”“You need to learn some humility, General.”
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 12
Kudos: 124





	Bar Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tags. I have no excuses. As usual, not beta read.

It had been too long since Hux had seen battle firsthand. He’d begun to lose his touch in the coldness of space. He’d become cold, too. Bloodless. The sinking feeling that he’d been wrong about the effectiveness of simulations nagged at him, but it didn’t dampen his mood. Nothing could. The conflict that Ren had landed them in this time couldn’t be described even generously as a ‘battle,’ but a ‘bar fight’ it was. And a damn satisfying one. His blood was roaring in his ears now. He fired off one last plasma bolt from his blaster, watching the enemy fall slack against the wall of this seedy Outer Rim bar and slide down, the back of their open skull leaving a trail of splattered green.

Where had Ren gotten off to? Hux lost sight of him when all hell broke loose. The last three missions that he’d been dragged along on were a very strange sort of role reversal — Ren calling out the moves and directions while Hux watched over them, scanning the room or tree line for hostile life, rifle slung over his back and blaster on his hip. Whatever plans Ren had, he didn’t deign to share any more about them than what Hux needed to know to follow him. It was reminiscent of Hux’s sniper days just after his graduation.

“Ren!” Hux called out, his nerves still singing from the skirmish. He turned, taking in the carnage. Bodies littered the floor and the tables and one hung from a light fixture. Tinny, canned sounding jizz music still bopped merrily over the bar’s speakers. Nearly every surface, including Hux himself, was slimed with gore of a hundred hues. The close proximity in this location had necessitated the use of the dagger up his sleeve. He wiped the back of his sleeve against his face but only succeeded in smearing the blue droplets that one of his victims had breathed on him when his dagger skewered their throat. He tasted and smelled iron. The scent hung coppery over the other bar-smells -- stale smoke and alcohol, worn upholstery. The part of him that twisted with nausea and the want of a hot shower was drowned out by the part that wanted more. If six more combatants jumped out at him now from beneath tables and behind curtains he’d meet them gladly. It seemed they’d all been cut down, though. The place was dead, along with everything in it but Hux. And Ren, presumably. Where...?

“Ren! Ren? R—”

He ducked behind the bar and found Ren crumpled on the floor. There was perhaps an inch of viscera on the ground from where he’d ripped apart two bodies. They didn’t appear scorched. Maybe he’d done it with his hands. Hux believed he could. Hux rushed to his side, turning his face up. Ren coughed. Alive. Hux didn’t know what he felt.

“Ren, kriffing hells,” Hux muttered, taking his pulse. “What happened?”

“Bomb.”

“Ah.” Hux remembered hearing that go off now. There was a hole in the wall to the kitchen not two feet from Ren’s head.

“Knocked me out.”

“I see.” Ren should be in as many pieces as the bodies around him. “Let’s get you back to the ship and—”

“What did you call me?” Ren blinked up at him, eyes narrowing.

Kriff. “Supreme Leader.”

“I don’t think that was it.”

“...Ren.”

“You need to learn some humility, _General_.”

In the next instant Hux found himself pressed face down into the grimy floor with his arms bound behind him. Bound...when had—? Hux realized that the binds he could feel digging into his wrists weren’t physical. When he struggled against them they didn’t bite into his flesh. Ren was doing this with his mind.

Ren righted himself, getting up on his knees with a grunt, and reached under Hux’s uniform top to pull down his trousers. Hux took in a quick breath as the cool air of the silent bar hit his skin. He’d done this before, of course, with his superiors. It was a common transaction. Hardly a day went by when he was fresh out of the academy that some Major or other didn’t put his ass to use as well as his brain. Of course, it had been a while now since he’d had sex of any variety. He’d been busy, and leagues apart from anyone who ranked with him or above — Hux wasn’t about to use one of his staff in this way. The practice was a haunted relic of Imperial failure, and he objected to it. As for whether Ren ascribed to it...Hux thought not. This was something different, and it’d been building for years. They’d always been headed here, if the both of them managed to survive the war...and each other. Why not now? Now, what Hux thought of vaguely as the ‘Situation’ between himself and Kylo Ren had changed. Ren was no longer outside the ranking of the Order. He was at the very top. And if the result of testing his temper now that their cards had had been turned over and Ren had the upper hand was a vigorous fuck, well, Hux could certainly make use of that.

“This has never taught me humility before,” Hux warned him, voice low as if he were talking to a skittish animal.

“You’ve never bent over for me.”

“You sound disappointed about that. Was it on Snoke’s list of rules for you?”

One of Ren’s hands came down on his head and pressed his face into the floor roughly, putting pressure on his skull. He could crack it if he wanted. Cooling blood ran into Hux’s eye and stung, and covered half his face in a thick layer as if he’d been dipped in paint.

“Best of luck, Supreme Leader,” Hux said, craning his neck up to try and keep his mouth out of the bloody refuse.

Ren very nearly growled at him, and there was a sickening squelch along the floor as Ren slimed up his free hand with blood, and then two slick fingers were pushing into him. Hux’s stomach dropped and his skin crawled.  _ Disgusting _ — the most disgusting thing that had ever been done to him. This rocketed to the top of that list. The sudden stretch of Ren entering him burned. His cock was filling now, hanging heavy between his legs. He instinctively jerked his hips forward, and Ren’s hand left his hair, thoroughly mussing it first.

“You stopped using that stuff,” Ren murmured, his hand trailing down Hux’s jacket and over his hip to grip his cock (good). He shoved his fingers in so that Hux was impaled completely (better). It took Hux a moment to realize Ren meant his pomade. That was true. He’d switched over to a wax recently, and used less of it.

“You did say you didn’t like it,” Hux reminded him.

The complaint had happened when Ren had shoved him into a wall back on the Finalizer, shortly after Crait. Hux now found he thought of his life in terms of post-Starkiller and post-Crait. Just as on the Supremacy, Ren’s attack came without warning. Unlike the Supremacy, Hux had been ready to defend himself — he’d known Ren would try and murder him again given the slightest provocation. But his monomolecular blade didn’t see use that night after all. Ren had only put his huge gloved hands on either side of Hux’s head as if they were in the climatic scene of some romantic holodrama, and then pulled away with a grimace to look at the sticky residue on them. He’d shouted about banning the shit, and then his eyes flitted back up to Hux’s shocked face once before he stormed away.

That strange encounter had told Hux exactly what the path forward would be to slip a choke chain onto the new Supreme Leader. He’d thrown out the pomade that night, and left one clasp of his uniform collar undone the next day. Ren’s eyes had been glued to his throat when he’d stalked onto the bridge, presumably to terrorize Hux or the crew, but he’d forgotten what he meant to say and went right back out. The day after, Hux left both clasps open. When Ren summoned him from bed in the early hours of the morning a week later to prod him about strategy or just to leer at him — another common occurrence post-Crait — Hux gave him something to leer at: he arrived in just his robe, letting the neckline slip down as he lounged on the ice blue couch in Ren’s quarters. He’d been delighted when Ren’s face went red. So things had progressed, up until this moment.

“Tight,” Ren grunted, scissoring his fingers and adding a third. It was beginning to hurt, the blood getting tacky. Ren heard the thought: he leaned down and spat. It landed hot at the top of Hux’s ass and trickled down minutely, barely helping.

Hux didn’t fancy a trip to the med bay upon their return, least of all for this. “Supreme Leader,” he grunted. “The bar...there’s usually — ah, some form of oil or...or syrup.”  _ Anything _ .

“What do I care?” Typical Ren. Brutish.

“You think it’ll feel good for you without anything?” Hux snapped. He gasped as Ren tore his fingers out of him and his other hand left his cock, but he heard Ren rifling around the bar top and suppressed a smile.

Ren returned with a jar of something and popped it open. Hux tried to appear uninterested even as his eyes roved over it — the jar was unlabeled, the stuff within a strange gray-purple. Home batch then, but it was viscous and didn’t have an off-putting scent. Ren stuck his hand in and came out with a glob of it on top of the blood coating his fingers, and then gripped Hux’s hip in one hand and pushed his fingers in again. Three this time. The gel eased the way, and Hux relaxed a bit.

Blood was soaking through his uniform front where his chest and sleeves touched the floor. His knees would bruise before this was over. Hux wondered if he’d ever smell anything but iron again. He was fairly sure there was blood up his nose. It was as intoxicating as the three fingers of whiskey he’d imbibed before Ren decided to start an argument with a klatooinian. Less intoxicating than the three fingers spreading him open.

“Want to see you,” Ren said.

“What—”

Ren’s fingers pulled out again, without a stab of pain this time, and then Hux was rolled over onto his back. His hair on the side of his face that had been pressed into the floor was saturated, and dripped. The slime on the floor coated his bare ass and thighs, and began sinking into the back of his uniform as well as the front.

“Knife,” Ren said.

“No.”

“Damn it Hux, give me the knife. You know I can take it.”

“There’s one in my boot.”

Ren patted down his calves through his boots and located it, and then unceremoniously cut his trousers down the middle and hacked the majority of the extra fabric away. Ren studied him a moment and then tore at his jacket too, baring his stomach and ribs and leaving it whole over the top of his chest.

“Savage.”

“I’m your Supreme Leader,” said Ren. “I own this,” He squeezed the fabric at Hux’s shoulder and then ran his hand down Hux’s bared stomach to his cock. “I own you.” He pumped Hux lazily.

“How am I getting back to the ship?” Hux asked, hating how hitched his voice was under Ren’s ministrations.

“That’s your problem.”

Ren’s hand left his cock and it was hard not to whine. He spread Hux’s legs and pushed them up to his chest. Hux took his knees in hand without being told to. Ren pulled his leggings down to free his own cock and slicked it with more of whatever was in the jar, and then lined himself up. Hux had figured that Ren was big — the rest of him was — but a spike of fear jolted through him at the confirmation. Ren was huge. Hux bit his lip to prevent himself from saying anything about it. Acknowledgement might make Ren rougher.

Ren began to enter him, and Hux moaned involuntarily as the head stretched his rim. He let his knees go, letting his legs rest on Ren’s shoulders.

“You like that?” Ren asked, his voice and face pinched.

_ Too tight for you? _ Hux thought. It was likely, after his years of celibacy. His favorite toy was much smaller than this.

“Answer me.”

“I like it.” Ren looked at him expectantly, pausing. Hux licked his lips, tasting blood. “Please, I need more...Supreme Leader.”

Ren smiled and pushed in smoothly to the root, making Hux cry out at the heavy drag of him over his prostate. The gel Ren had found made a good makeshift lubricant — Hux felt himself adjust to the intrusion without the sting of injury. Ren set the pace, slower than Hux had feared. The slide of him was perfect.

Hux thought that word,  _ perfect _ , and Ren choked above him. Ren curled over him, going down on his elbows and then clasping Hux’s face in his hands just as he’d done on the Finalizer. He pressed their foreheads together, effectively bending Hux in half since Hux’s knees were over his shoulders, and deepened his thrusts. Hux brought his hands up and mirrored Ren’s grip on him, rubbing his thumbs up Ren’s jaw. Ren’s breath was warm on his face, sour-sweet from the fruity drink he’d consumed before the bar descended into chaos.

His skin felt hot from more than simple exertion. Hux struggled to focus on Ren’s face so close to his, and couldn’t. Ren’s skin seemed to move and blur, and his veins were becoming visible as they went dark. Hux turned his head, focusing on the wall, the corpse in front of it. The colors were too bright, the red blood searing. The wall was melting. Every surface shifted like it was made of slithering vines.

“Fuck,” Hux said. It had been years, but he remembered this sensation.

“What...” Ren was having trouble focusing on him too, Hux saw. “Your face,” Ren murmured, not slowing his hips in the slightest even as his pupils dilated completely, only the thinnest line of brown iris remaining. Hux knew he must look rather ghoulish as his own veins expanded and darkened beneath his bloodstained skin, his pale eyes going unnaturally dark.

“Spice variant,” said Hux. “It’ll pass.”

Ren laughed, and a moment later Hux did too. It was an outright giggle.

“You’re high off your ass... _ from _ your—” Ren laughed again instead of finishing his sentence, and Hux rubbed the side of his face against Ren’s, sliming him with the blood he’d pushed Hux into. Ren licked a stripe up his cheek, not daunted in the least.

Every thrust was hitting home now, Ren grunting quietly. Getting close. Hux was close too. A hand on his cock would push him over the edge now. Neon striations flashed in the air, crawling over his vision and making him dizzy. The pain the hard floor had been causing him faded away. He felt as though he were floating an inch above it. Only the blood rippling around his form every time Ren thrusted into him convinced him he still rested on filthy durasteel.

“Ren.”

“Huh?” Ren’s hands were trembling on his face. The rhythm of his hips stuttered once and he whined. He was putting his full strength into it now. Hux wondered if Ren had pulled his leggings down far enough to bare his ass. If someone walked around the bar at this moment would they see the muscle of Ren’s haunches working as he rutted into Hux like an animal? No, animals didn’t fuck like this. Facing each other, breathing restlessly against each other's faces, covered in the blood of their prey. This was an abomination. Far from Hux’s first.

“Let me reach,” Hux said. Ren lifted his chest enough for Hux to get his arm down between them and tug at his own cock. His eyes watered in relief and he moaned deep in his throat, syncing up his hand with Ren’s thrusts. His muscles clenched when he wrung his orgasm out onto his stomach. “ _ Ah _ ...fuck. Fuck.” He tried to steady his breath, his ribs rising and falling roughly.

Ren slammed into him a final time and keened, his huge thighs shaking as he came. Add Ren’s spunk to the list of unspeakable fluids currently slicking Hux’s asshole.  _ What’s regulation lubricant got on viscera and distilled narcotics _ , Hux thought drily. Bright flashes still troubled Hux’s vision, and the bar top looked like it was oozing down the cabinets below. Ren collapsed, not bothering to pull out, his weight making Hux grunt. His arm was pinned between them still. Ren's tunic was as filthy as Hux's skin now. Maybe the blood would hide the come.

“Get off,” Hux huffed at him.

“Just did.”

“Fucking hell—”

“We aren’t going anywhere yet. Shut up and I’ll give you my cloak to wear.” Hux shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked. “You can thank me, if you want.” Ren purred, his face nuzzled against Hux’s.

Hux wanted to curse at him, and swallowed the words rising. Playing along was his only means of saving what dignity he had when they returned to the Finalizer. He didn’t want to do so naked. Naked with Ren leaking down his thighs. “Thank you, Supreme Leader.” Hux croaked.

“For what?”

Insufferable man. Forget dignity: Hux started this game and Hux would finish it. “For fucking me so well. It was acceptable, under the circumstances.” Ren’s left hand had been petting the drier side of Hux’s hair. It dug in and pulled now. Ren heaved himself up enough to glare down at Hux. Hux continued, smirking, “Of course, I did tell you it wouldn’t be so easy. I’ve hardly learned my lesson.”

Ren’s eyes were dark and shining, looking down on Hux with something that was not pure rage. Nevertheless, it burned. “You will.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Kylux Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6YRMYaT5fte0cPWH5UVGW5?si=J3LTK6tkRyqlKb_taM7eHg)


End file.
